


Gingerbread for The Soul

by lolwhythough



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, lots and lots of xmas fluff, my dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 20:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolwhythough/pseuds/lolwhythough
Summary: Christmas is less than a week away.So why was the tree not up?





	Gingerbread for The Soul

It  wasn’t like she was super into the holidays or something. Hell, it was probably sacrilegious for her to be celebrating them at all.

It was just, she figured  _ he _ would. He always loved silly, light hearted things like that. Even more so, he liked pushing her into doing those silly light hearted things. For God’s sake, he even convinced her to celebrate arbor day.  _ Arbor Day.  _

And the worst part? She kind of liked it. It was easy to begrudgingly go along with something. Besides, it was their thing, he was the “fun” one.

So why the hell was she outside his door with a box of gingerbread mix?

Was it because Garfield Logan had somehow, by some cosmic mistake, forgotten about Christmas?

“I do not think he has forgotten.” Starfire had told her that morning, tending to the strange array of exotic plants on the windowsill.  “It is …unlike him. He is always the first one to put up the shiny metal and the forever green and the oversized socks.”

Robin nodded, sparing a glance over to the sad, bare corner of the room. “I have to say, it is strange that Beast Boy hasn’t mentioned anything about the holidays.” He sheepishly rubbed a gloved hand against his neck. “I’d pick up his slack but, to be honest, Beast Boy has done it for so long, I don’t even know where we keep that stuff anymore.”

“Stars right, there’s no way BB would forget.” Cyborg chimed in, shaking his head. “He goes crazy for that kind of stuff. Always has.” He rubbed a metallic hand against his face, deep in thought. “Nah, something has to be going on.”

She felt three pairs of eyes shift towards her and tried not to squirm. “…What?”

The trio shared an a look.

“ _ What? _ ” Raven repeated.

“Are you not having intimate relations?” Starfire asked, all innocence and puppy dog eyes. Raven felt as though her stomach was doing the macarena. 

“What Starfire means to say,” Robin interrupted saving her an aneurism. Boy Wonder indeed. “Is that you—uh. You and him are, well you know—” Then again, maybe not. Raven was starting to reconsider putting an end to the apocalypse.

“You guys have a thing.” Cyborg cut in, rolling his eyes. Eye.  “Come on, man.”

“Right.” Robin added, as if that was what he had meant to say all along. Raven, ever courteous, ignored the way his voice cracked.

Cyborg tisked, giving Robin a nudge to the side. “Well, anyway. Maybe you could talk to him. See what’s up? And hey, you know, now you have your ways of getting answers.”

Now it was Robin’s turn to jab his elbow into Cyborg. The half-android had some decency to look a little sheepish.

So, that was Raven’s plan. Show up, ask if he wanted to make a gingerbread house, get some answers.

You know, like all good detective girlfriends. Hookups. Whatever they were.

She rapped her knuckles on his door three times, quick but firm. There was the sound of shuffling before it slid open with an audible whir. His mossy green hair stuck up at odd angles and he donned pajama pants and a t-shirt. The faint scent of coffee wafted from behind him. He seemed…disheveled, to say the least.

“Sorry. Were you sleeping?” She shifted the box in her hand and frowned. Sure, it was later in the evening but Garfield had never been one to follow a sleep schedule. He took naps no matter what the time of day. On the couch, the floor, her room, he could sleep anywhere anytime. Truly a talent to behold.

“Huh? Nah.” He stepped aside to let her in and rolled his shoulders, the door slid shut behind her. “The Doom Patrol recently has been sending me stuff to look at. I don’t know, I guess something weird is going on with a base in Africa? They want me to research some stuff and you know I’m no good at that.” His shoulders slumped a little, defeated.

She hummed in sympathy before setting the box down on a nearby counter. It could wait. She slid her hands up to his arms and gently lead him to sit on the bed. “Maybe you could ask Dick for help. How long have you had the case?” She slid behind him, massaging her hands into his shoulders.

“I don’t know, two weeks ago?” He sighed, head lolling forward when she began working at a particularly stubborn knot. “By the way, what’s with the box?” He nodded his nead in its direction.

“I thought we could bake something together.” She said nonchalantly, thumbs pressing along his spine. His muscles were tight and she bit back the urge to scold him for slouching.

He allowed his eyes to shut. “You can’t bake.” That earned him a playful jab to his back and he grinned to himself. “Alright alright, sorry Rachael Ray. What did you have in mind?” 

Her hands snaked around from behind and crossed in front of him. She leaned forward and rested her chin on his shoulder and when she spoke he could feel her throat vibrate. “I was thinking something along the lines of Christmas cookies.”

He frowned, “Christmas cookies…”

She pressed her face to his neck and nodded. “Mmhm.”

“CHRISTMAS COOKIES!” He boomed, whipping around and her head dropped at the lack of support. When she looked back up his eyes were just as wild as his hair, the whites visible. He was inches away from her, teeth bared in utter panic. They held each other’s gaze and the realization slowly dawned on her.

Holy shit, Raven thought, mouth dropping open.

Garfield had actually forgotten about Christmas.

“It was just November!” His hands grasped her arms, shaking her slightly. “We still have Thanksgiving leftovers!”

“We never throw out leftovers,” She offered weakly.

“Shit! Shit!!! I didn’t even get a tree!” Now he was full-blown panicking, running around his room, opening and closing drawers. She stood, at a loss for what to do.

“We don’t need a—”

“Oh my god!” He had found what he was looking for, a small calendar with the 25th circled in red ink.  He held it out in front of him, one hand clutching his moss colored locks. “Oh my GOD Christmas is six days away, Rae! How the hell did this happen? I haven’t done anything! I… I haven’t even gotten you a gift!” He said the last part utterly horrified, both arms hanging limply in front of him.

She walked towards him, compassion swelling in her chest, and maybe just a little bit of laughter, too. She placed her hands on his cheeks and moved his head back and forth. He was looking at her as if he personally had destroyed Christmas.

“Well, you’re lucky I haven’t gotten one for you yet, either.” He huffed but quirked half a smile. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and he brightened the rest of the way.

“I still have a lot to do…”

“We’ll ask Dick about the case. Maybe we’ll give him a few cookies too, as a thank you.” Garfield shrugged.

“What about presents?”

She rolled her eyes, “Write me a poem.”

“That’ll take even longer!”

“A haiku, then.”

“C’mon can’t I just buy you crazy expensive jewelry or something?” He punctuated the sentence with a kiss and it made her laugh.

 

\---

 

Predictably, her gingerbread cookies were awful. It didn’t make any sense, as Garfield had pointed out they used the  _ same damned mix  _ from the _ same damned box.  _

 

“I suppose I was never meant to be a housewife.” She moped, sliding her own batch into the garbage. 

 

He gave her a sheepish grin and pushed his own cookies onto on a plate that said “Reindeer Snacks” in bright red letters.

She frowned down at it, “We were thinking of looking for the decorations earlier. Where do you keep them, anyway?”

To which he bumped his hip to hers, and gave her a wink, “I’ll never tell.” She scoffed and took the plate from his hands, making her way towards the evidence room.

When they opened door, they had found Dick Grayson with his feet propped up on the desk, eyeing the security footage. He gave them a friendly nod as they walked in. His gaze lingered a little from the plate of cookies to Raven. A silent “good job” for completing the mission.

Garfield plopped the plate on the desk, careful to keep it away from Dick’s steel-toed boots. The last thing they needed was broken ceramic everywhere. He then lazily rested his arms on the back of one of the chairs. 

 

“Anything interesting?” Raven asked.    
  
“Nah, pretty slow around the holidays.” He turned to face them. “Whats up?” 

 

“Well…” Garfield began, “Out of curiousity, do you know anything about Mozambique?” 

 

Three hours later, Robin had found the information needed and more. Background checks, base locations, and profiles of people The Doom Patrol had even began to consider. Gar tried not to be too put out by it. After all, Robin had appreciated the cookies.

He really should consider detective work.

Beast Boy tried his best to push the holiday spirit in little bursts as the week went by. A Christmas song playing while he made dinner here. An elf on the shelf there. He even got a mini Evergreen for the window sill.

It all lead up to Christmas morning. The sun shining through the windows bathed the living room in a certain glow. Raven chalked it up to “Christmas Spirit”

 

“Where’s my haiku?” She gave the changeling a nudge and he grinned before slipping his arm around her shoulder. 

 

“One haiku, coming up.” He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the three other titans. They were finishing off their breakfast in the living room, sitting around the TV broadcasting an image of a crackling fireplace. 

Starfire clapped her hands together. “Oh, yes! I am excited to learn about this new form of human poetry and culture!”

“Alright here it goes.” Garfield closed his eyes before dramatically putting a hand to his chest. “In Whoville they say, that the Grinch’s small heart grew thr—" A pillow met his face and the room burst into groans.

“That’s not a haiku! That’s not even a  _ POEM.” _

“I do not understand. Whoville?”

“It’s uh, a kid’s book thing about a--ah... Don’t worry about it, Star.” 

Garfield did end up giving Raven an actual gift later. He had crudely painted a reindeer a shade of lime green. And who could blame it if she hung it by her bedside, year round?

All in all, Garfield hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming. It came.  Somehow or other, it came just the same.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks http://loubuggins.tumblr.com/ for being my first beta :)))


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